Sergeant Dalton
Harper raised his voice, "Three of ours heading this way." He seized a longer
look with binoculars, "One has on a rancher's hat."

Captain Kasey Lawrence frowned and called her squad to attention, "We're
getting a visit from a headquarters puke who struts over spit and shine!
Don't give him a reason to linger.

The unit scrambled to get up to regulations. Captain Lawrence never
busted them about little things, so long as the work got done. She
saw it as the only way to operate in this hoary desert near the Iraq border.
They were miles off the road running across Saudi Arabia northwest
from Jordan to the Persian Gulf southeast, a US Army chemical and biological
substance detection team working on the edge of the Empty Quarter looking
for evidence of materials used by Saddam Hussein's forces during the Gulf
War.

Major Jack "Cowboy" Bowers vaulted out of a mutt followed by an attendant
combo. In rapid stride he surveyed the troops, effortlessly finding
something to criticize about everyone. He ended with Kasey, her
image reflecting in his mirrored shades, "Captain Lawrence, unbutton your
coat."

Vertically embroidered along the edge of the lining, knurly stitching
on top of the finished weave, as the words - America, One Nation, One
Destiny.

Bowers knew it. He smiled, "Your uniform is not up to code."

Kasey peered at his hat, "With due respect sir, neither is yours."

Her crew stifled smirks while Bowers failed in search for an appropriate.
"You're coming with us," he finally fired off. "General Zalman
wants to see you."

Captain Lawrence dropped command on Lieutenant Moore and climbed into
the jeep.

They moved
south. Toward the outpost near Badanah. The Gulf War ended
years ago, but America continued enforcing no-fly zones in north and south
Iraq. An effort mostly carried out by US personnel in Saudi Arabia,
America's best friend in the Arab Mideast. Their relationship was
mature and elegantly polished in the ways it had to be. The US provides
the force to warn off outsiders with eyes on Saudi oil and gas reserves
while Saudi Arabia keeps the tap flowing and the price down. That
much both countries admitted to themselves, each other, and the world.
Neither dared acknowledge American presence as serving to deter
internal threats to the Saudi royal family. They never went there
with each other - it's a diplomatic no-fly zone.

En route,
Bowers engaged in a rant disguised as small-talk, criticizing in minutiae
the expertise of her unit and finally degenerating into a tirade about
women in the military: "Politicians are bending over to curry favor with
female voters and liberals. Brass is being forced to lower standards."

He left
himself wide open, "Sir, if so, why am I, working in the field, a captain,
while you, always in an office, are a major? We both graduated from
West Point in the same class." Kasey took no delight in dishing
it to Bowers. It's always been too easy to one-up him. At
least he became quiet. That was satisfaction enough.

Kasey met
with General Zalman soon as she arrived at the seven year old temporary
base. She noticed his white hair had grown long. Seems he's
been near retirement forever. A good man but one who should have found
something else to do with his life long ago, as the peccadilloes leaving
his face a raw crimson revealed.

"I have
an order from DOD that came in on a diplomatic back-channel," Zalman said
when they were alone. "I am to send the highest ranking intelligence
officer in the region to the Iraq border. From there, Iraqi military
will take you to meet with an official allegedly possessing information
of major security interest to the region."

Captain
Lawrence digested his words. Outside a window her eye caught a glimpse
of a small plane landing and its sole occupant, a man, exit and walk toward
them.

"Seems an
issue for the diplomats," Kasey observed.

Zalman shrugged,
"The order comes from high-up on the chain. Iraq wants the meeting
right away. Likely some new ploy to get sanctions lifted. DOD
wants to handle it informally."

"I'm to
go alone?"

"No. A
comparably ranking Saudi will accompany you."

A very unusual
pairing. Kasey raised a brow.

Zalman elaborated,
"The matter is said to be of significant interest to them."

The pilot
of the plane, Air Force Captain Nasir ibn Saud, entered the room. He
ignored Kasey, presented himself to Zalman and went on without missing
taking a breath, "General, it is inappropriate for a woman to attend this
meeting with me. As a member of the royal family, it is unacceptable-"

Zalman,
too played out for such posturing, stepped on his protest, "I will follow
my orders. If you won't go, that's your choice."

Kasey moved
toward Nasir and extended a hand, always her first act in dealing with
fixed attitudes, try to ignore them and move forward. Nasir avoided
the gesture.

The general
turned away from both of them and delivered a weary dirge, "Captain, or
Prince Saud, I won't argue etiquette with you. Saudi Arabia will
have to get a briefing from us after the meeting."

Kasey watched
an Army convoy pull up outside. Two ACAVS, a Lorry and an M113.
Worn hardware, back from the Desert Storm era. Kasey walked down
the hall after being dismissed and listened to Nasir harangue Zalman about
political repercussions. She came across Bowers loitering by the exit.
"Better watch your ass up there," he sneered.

"Maybe you
should tag along. You've been watching my ass since the day we entered
the academy." Kasey kept walking and had a seat in the Lorry.

Nasir at
last emerged. An angry gait launched him next to her where he perched
like a cramped animal. The caravan moved off. Zalman stared
at them as he poured a shot of whiskey.

Honor Bound
is a provocative new novel that sweeps across the genres of contemporary
mainstream, military and political thriller fiction. Ultimately an inquiry
into the price paid for denying the suppressed self, Honor Bound
emphasizes the moral challenges of living in today's world, often exploring
how we regard others, the molding of public perception and affectations
of institutionalized authority in a time when important things are difficult,
even dangerous to know.

Leading a
biological warfare detection squad in the Saudi desert near the Iraq border
years after the Gulf War, US Army Captain Kasey Lawrence receives an abrupt
summons to Command and is ordered on an immediate assignment inside Iraq
to meet a high ranking official allegedly possessing information of vital
importance to the region. During her briefing, Saudi Arabian Air Force
Captain Prince Nasir ibn Saud arrives and is declared her mission partner.
Captain Lawrence raises an eyebrow at news of such an unusual pairing
while the Saudi royal objects to being teamed with a woman, a violation
of protocol between the nations. Told there is no time to stand on ceremony,
he reluctantly accompanies her. Together they embark on a life altering
journey that unfolds among revolution, political intrigue, clash of cultures
and forbidden encounters that involves monarchs, criminal gangs, family
militias, self-serving terrorists, freedom fighters, diplomats, state
leaders, Mossad, the CIA, an American president, Saddam Hussein and a
twenty-five thousand member female rebel army, all existing in a looking-glass
reality where assumed allies tell lies and presumed enemies speak the
truth, finally leading Captain Lawrence and her Saudi cohort to a startling
revelation that will forever change the world.

John Ratti believes things important
to know are difficult, even dangerous, to learn. His work anticipates
tomorrow's headlines while emphasizing the moral challenges of living
in today's world, often exploring how we regard others, the molding of
public perception and the affectations of institutionalized power. John
lives in Gloucester, Massachusetts.